Elephant Gun
by hellhalo
Summary: Alfred decides to visit Russia. This time though, he has a gun.


Alfred zipped his jacket up as the helicopter landed on the hard ground, gently blowing snow around in a spiral direction. He jumped off and took a moment to look up at the sky. Clouds were drifting over the full moon and gently blanketing the stars, making eerie shadows beneath the pine trees.

After searching around for a moment, Alfred noticed a small light in the distance and started following it through the pines. Snow dusted the cobblestone pathway that led up to Ivan's home. Alfred smeared the snow with mud on the wooden porch as he kicked the snow and ice that had caked on his boots off, and knocked on the door. Before he even had time to listen for footsteps, Alfred saw the door open to Ivan's jovial face. It still sent shivers down his spine every time he saw Ivan, and this time seemed worse than the rest. "It's a pleasure to see you, Alfred. Always is." Ivan said as he held the door open.

Alfred hung his jacket on the coat hanger. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?" He tried to smile.

"Yes, far too long in my opinion. Come, have a seat." Ivan motioned towards the table as he brought out a bottle of wine. "I thought you might prefer wine. Vodka is… and acquired taste."

"You can say that again." Alfred tried to look away from Ivan's grin; it made him sick to even look the man in the eyes.

Ivan poured them both a glass and sat down directly across from Alfred. He could see the fireplace reflecting in the lenses of Alfred's glasses, the flames licking over his blue eyes. He could sense fear in those eyes, fear and regret. Ivan smiled to himself, thinking of all the bloodshed that Alfred had caused, even as a boy. They weren't too different from each other, despite the tensions.

Gripping the neck of the wine glass, Alfred stared across the table. All he saw was a psychopath, with blood as cold as ice. Russia's past was something he knew little of, but he had heard stories and experiences his malicious actions firsthand. Tonight was going to be one of those times, and hopefully the last if everything worked out. That little if hung in Alfred's mind, though.

"Well, shall we drink?" Ivan smiled softly, lifting his glass.

Alfred followed. "To death." He gulped.

Alfred's hand froze as he focused in on Ivan, watching his every move.

"I put it in the whole bottle, Alfred. You don't need to worry. We are in this together, correct?" Ivan put his glass down. "It won't kill you immediately. You'll have time to make sure I drink too, and I the same."

Alfred looked outside the window at the snow falling. It was a pleasant sight, and if he were to die here, he wouldn't have minded it being the last thing he ever saw. But he wasn't going to let that happen, not while Ivan was still around.

"You always were a bit frightened of everything, Alfred." Ivan chuckled. "Like a little kitten after it realizes what its curiosity has gotten it into."

"You calling me a pussy now?" Alfred forced a laugh. "I'm not afraid. Just… apprehensive. Give me some time."

"The English language has many words for the same feeling. Either I know your mother tongue better than you, or you are desperately trying to fool me. Arthur would be ashamed if it were the former."

"Please don't mention him." Alfred said quietly.

"Why? Are you afraid you've disappointed him?"

The room was silent for a short moment. Alfred clenched his hands and looked down. He was frightened, confused, and for once his life, completely unsure. This wasn't the type of situation for one of his quick decisions, and yet all he needed was more time to make that decision. Ivan was much stronger than he was. He had to get Ivan to leave, or at least let his guard down.

"I apologize, Alfred. Sincerely." Ivan grabbed onto Alfred's hand from across the table, restraining any possible movement Alfred could make with that arm. "I don't know what you're thinking, but if you're thinking of backing out, I'll just shoot you."

"Alright… I'm sorry… I just need a moment." Alfred whispered as Ivan softened his grip.

With trembling fingers, Alfred picked up the glass and pressed it to his lips. The wine tasted abnormally sweet, making Alfred shudder as he swallowed it. Without hesitation, Ivan did the same and smiled. "A double suicide. How cliché." With that, Ivan started laughing.

It was a terrifying sound. Alfred stiffened in his seat, not moving a muscle. Ivan smirked. "Really, Alfred. You are so fucking stupid. If you really thought I'd fall for something like that, then you don't really know me at all." His simper was burning into Alfred's heart already. "You're dying as we speak. Me? I'll be fine. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."

Alfred reached for his gun, realizing it was with his jacket. Ivan reached down and grabbed it, pointing it at Alfred. "Looking for this?"

"Where did you-"?

"I know a concealed weapon when I see one. You could have done a better job… I'm disappointed in you. Of all the years I've known you, I would have never thought you'd slip up this badly."

Alfred didn't speak. He slowly stood up, watching Ivan's eyes follow his movements, and shoved the table to the floor. He heard a gunshot and glass breaking, and then felt his body slam onto the floor. When he looked up, Ivan was standing above him, with glass shards in his face. He wasn't smiling anymore. Alfred could feel wet, sticky blood in his hair and it seeping through his shirt. "Looks like I'll have to finish you off if the first bullet won't kill you soon."

"Why don't you just kill me now?" Alfred whispered.

"I like to watch you like this. You have such a sweet face, and to see you in such pain… well, it satisfies me."

"You sick bastard." Alfred choked. He sat up and wiped the blood off his split lip.

Ivan extended his hand and pulled Alfred up off the floor. "As long as we're both dying, we might as well be civil with each other, right comrade?"

"Fuck you."

"Arthur wouldn't approve of that language, would he?"

_"Fuck you and fuck Arthur." _Alfred swung at Ivan and cuffed him in the face.

Ivan looked away and put his hand up to his nose, staring at the blood that streamed in his palm. Alfred reached down slowly and picked up the gun. He cocked it and aimed it at Ivan as he turned back around. Ivan pulled out another handgun. "You didn't think I would have a gun, too?"

Alfred's hands were trembling as he noticed how calm Ivan's were. _That's not normal. He's not normal._ He told himself as he looked at Ivan's flat expression. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger. It echoed throughout the house before Ivan's body hit the floor. Alfred could see the blood soaking Ivan's shirt as he heaved on the wood floor. Ivan opened his eyes and pointed the gun once more at Alfred. "I don't care if you die from that poison or not, but you're coming with me." Another shot rang throughout the house, penetrating Alfred's chest once more.

He keeled over and grabbed his chest, clutching his blood soaked shirt. His body went limp and fell on top of Ivan's warm corpse, and he closed his eyes, making sure to look out the window for the last time at the snow. He could have sworn he felt snowflakes on his skin.


End file.
